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Wednesday Poetry Prompts: 264

Categories: Poetry Prompts, Robert Lee Brewer's Poetic Asides Blog, What's New.

For this week’s prompt, use a new(er) word in a poem. Merriam-Webster recently added 150 new terms to its collegiate dictionary, including tweep, hashtag, selfie, unfriend, paywall, big data, social networking, and more. Click here to check out some of the definitions. Of course, you don’t have to restrict yourself to this list. If you are hip with the lingo, get all jive with your bad self (or selfie–or whatever).

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Here’s my attempt at a New Word Poem:

“catfish”

you don’t need a paywall
to experience big data
so many selfies
from five years before
the internet caught fire

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Robert Lee Brewer

Robert Lee Brewer

Robert Lee Brewer is Senior Content Editor of the Writer’s Digest Writing Community and author of Solving the World’s Problems. He loves new stuff, especially language. That said, he’s usually behind the curve when it comes to slang, and he usually gets it wrong once he’s savvy.

By the way, he apologizes for the silence surrounding the blog the past month. He’s been busy cutting through more than 21,500 comments to offer up 300 finalist poems to the guest judges for the April PAD Challenge. With great poetry comes great responsibility.

Learn more at www.robertleebrewer.com.

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About Robert Lee Brewer

Senior Content Editor, Writer's Digest Community.

181 Responses to Wednesday Poetry Prompts: 264

  1. Countrygirl_97 says:

    Remotely Lost

    Watching television
    after a hard days work
    never seemed difficult
    until the remote
    goes among the missing

    It was on the arm
    of the chair
    only an hour ago
    surely it didn’t grow feet
    and walk away

    Retracing my steps
    irritated and deciding
    I needed a tracking device
    for the TV remote.

    Needing a drink of water
    I opened the fridge
    and there sat the damn thing
    sitting by the roast

  2. Susan says:

    Today is June 4th. Maybe i am too early? I wrote to this one.

    big data

    too much, too complex.
    that’s the idea, isn’t it.

    it’s like hitting a paywall.
    as in if-you-paid-more
    this wouldn’t be big data.
    because you are on the right.
    side of the digital divide.

    oh. you don’t like my lack
    of caps. and use of phrases.
    and scattering of periods.

    I am on the left side of the
    digital divide. as in liberal
    enough to be hip. though
    each grammatical sin is
    chalk on a chalk board.

    remember those. boards.
    black or green slate. chalk
    dust. their big data exists.

  3. Julieann says:

    I Am a Bookaholic

    I’ve always prided myself in that
    I didn’t fit into any particular category
    I am my own person
    Doing my own thing
    But, alas, to my chagrin
    They’ve gone a made a word —
    A classification
    That fits me to a “T”
    I used to be a book worm
    Reading whatever came my way
    But now it’s more than that
    I not only read and read and read
    But I buy and buy, books and books
    And more and more books
    Some are classics
    Some are antiques – those are my faves
    I love a good young adult story
    And the historical novel
    Really catches my fancy
    Who doesn’t like a good who-dun-it
    And then there’s the ghost story and the
    All burgeoning genre of vampires
    I do wonder how they come
    Up with some of their ideas
    Each book is bought with good intentions
    Of getting it read
    But honestly, there is only so much time
    And way too many books,
    But I’ll keep buying
    And I’ll keep reading
    Because, well, I’ve found my niche
    I am a bookaholic

  4. tunesmiff says:

    One of the new words this year is “Kurine (noun) : poetry written in twenty lines”…

    And so I thought I’d attempt to use the word by attempting the word’s definition…
    ———-
    THUNDER BOOMER
    G. Smith
    —————–
    Gray storm clouds drift in, one by one,
    And start to crowd the summer sun,
    A sudden breeze stirs up the trees,
    And loose leaves scatter, on the run.

    Temperature drops a few degrees;
    The darkened sky just guarantees
    The rain will come before too long
    While blue sky only serves to tease.

    Thunder rumbles low and strong,
    Interrupting birds mid-song,
    The golden looks up, wags his tail,
    I scratch his ears, say, “Nothing’s wrong.”

    But then there comes the sound of hail,
    Followed by rain poured pail by pail,
    And suddenly I find my gaze
    Rushes back from that distant gale.

    How we stumble through our days,
    How we choose what goes, what stays,
    Never ceases to amaze.
    Families grieve in different ways;

    • TomNeal says:

      How we stumble through our days,
      How we choose what goes, what stays,
      Never ceases to amaze.
      Families grieve in different ways;

      The final rhyme ties up the rhyme scheme loose ends, but that semicolon potentially unravels all the previous full stops– leaving us with many “different ways”.

      Praise to the poem and the poet.

  5. JRSimmang says:

    …UNTOWARD… beneath it

    auto/anony(mous) … the
    truncated
    blink- blink- blink
    blue flash and simple song / sleep away while I
    slave away

    -too many dreams
    -too little realities
    ::MEMO::
    … in my dreams I can fly,
    here, I fall
    uncontrolled then ALT+DEL
    ::RE::
    Me too.

    so much so that the version of me buried within the tick tock tick tock TICK TOCK
    cannot find his glasses to see that the

    perf&///////////////

    slashwriterslashteacherslashmusicianslashcookslashloverslashhusbandslashvoyager

    is filling his pockets with////////////

    -JR Simmang

  6. cmariee says:

    A common core of learning strategies
    In a class of disabilities.
    The leading difficulty… Not the teaching.
    It’s never the teaching.

    It’s a constant struggle against an expert manipulator.
    Who is not an educator. He’s never an educator.
    He says, “these mandates, are not required. Just suggested.”
    And I wait for him to address me as “comrade.”

    I wait for him to readjust my teaching once more.
    With a push towards teaching students to think for themselves,
    I have to wonder what job is fostering new ideas exactly,
    When teaching in itself is quick becoming scripted?

    And, truth be told, it’s not the students. It’s never the students.
    Micromanaging, the most common of core strategies
    Has never trickled down to these small towns.
    Has never lent a hand to help them out.

    Please understand,
    Our expectations should increase.
    Students need and deserve this.
    As they need homework, and electives.
    As they need the guidance from small class size.

    And teachers, well we need resources to close the digital divide of weath.
    We need listening before forced action.
    We need a hand in their micromanaging.
    We need a say in education.

  7. PressOn says:

    CONUNDRUM

    On Twitter, the tweeters are tweeps,
    a back-forming from tweets and from peeps.
    This is all in good fun
    when it’s all said and done
    but what to call tweeps driving Jeeps?

  8. TomNeal says:

    Blame the poets not the techies
    for the banality . . .

    Where are the poets who refresh our tongue
    To be found? are they carping at the well
    Of neologisms? or do they dwell
    On the frontier of pandemonium*?

    *A word coined by Milton
    ** A few more words coined by Milton:
    infuriate, civilising, liturgical,
    love-lorn, ecstatic, flutter,
    cooking, hurried, well-balanced
    well-stocked, economise, padlock,
    acclaim, dismissive, criticise,
    disregard.

  9. PowerUnit says:

    No better lunch than the tavern, la brasiere
    On the frozen Nord shore, en hiver
    Avec les grande persons with bigger hands
    And la jeune fille qui smiles like an undiscovered angel
    Her dark skin, cheveux noir, et dent blanches
    The snowmobiles rip into the parking lot
    Kicking up white dust
    A pit stop at the canteen et watering hole
    Pour les bieres et le heartwarming and earth settling plate
    A grounding glue that brings the winter fliers
    Back into their lives
    Their culture
    Their being
    Poutine

  10. seingraham says:

    ON DROPPING AN EYE-BOMB

    Maybe I don’t get out enough, or even much
    But I am on FaceBook too often, and have been known
    To try and tweet the odd thing on Twitter (very odd,
    or so I’ve been told – hashtag, who cares?)
    But when I started to research words that are new
    but have joined the ranks of actual dictionarily defined
    —if “dictionarily” can be considered a word—

    I have to say, I didn’t know if you glued googly eyes
    on a tomato, or anything else for that matter,
    you would be creating an eye-bomb…
    And while I’ll admit to taking the odd (again, very odd)
    selfie, I had no idea if I took one at a gym it would be
    a gelfie, nor if I happened to be doing yoga…fat chance
    that…it would then be a yogis (already in use for something
    else, is it not…but in the ever so trendy world, pluralized).
    My favourite out of this particular group has to be the bum+
    selfie appellations, the belfies – I can’t conceive of what or who
    would do this…

    There were too many new words to do justice to them all
    so I’ll end off with my favourite of the lot
    It’s possibly the worst also – the “dead-cat hole” is the space
    between the top of the tyre and the body of a car…
    Do you have that visual? Yes?
    Apparently North American cars have a larger “dead-cat hole”
    than European cars
    Cat lovers, the dictionary entry goes on to say, may complain to
    EPA, which I suppose is the European equivalent to PETA

    Wow – I can hardly come to grips with the joy washing over
    me as I contemplate adding all these new terms to
    my vocabulary.
    Be still my heart. Or whatever the new lingo is for this cliché.

  11. cbwentworth says:

    Limited view,
    giant ego
    Selfies give fame
    to those who crave
    Liars run wild,
    addicts eat light
    Stuck in a void,
    hapless android
    A fake life thrives
    as living dies

  12. JohnLY says:

    MISUNDERSTANDING

    Downloading the data of the day
    I study my i-pad with care
    I wonder if past generations would see
    An i-pad or a babies diaper there.

    My tablet is my pride and joy
    The oldies took tablets for illness.
    Whenever I need to decipher new words
    I can download an App. for this.

    Some words have altered in a very strange way.
    I wonder what our Grandparents would say?
    They probably would consider it very unhealthy
    To take a picture of oneself and call it a “selfie”.

    Copyright © Written by John Yeo
    All rights reserved

  13. Amaria says:

    “Unfriend”

    understand that it’s not personal
    not that you would detect me missing
    for it was just maintenance when I
    released your name from my friends list
    it was so easy to delete you
    everyone does it – I have been told
    now our lines are cut in two, but it
    does not matter – I never knew you

  14. drnurit says:

    Add Friend, Confirm, Like,
    Ignore, Unfriend – one click each:
    New social order!

  15. Jezzie says:

    Please excuse me
    if I don’t write
    a poem on this
    subject this week
    but my Bestie,
    my dog, has died.

    It’s sad for me
    and now it’s quite
    hard to express
    words I could speak
    poetically.
    But I have tried.
    .

    OED new words list 2014:- Bestie = a person’s best friend

  16. PressOn says:

    This poem gives the term what it deserves.

  17. PressOn says:

    LIMITS

    New words
    bring new flavors
    to literary plates
    but I draw the line at corned-beef
    hashtags.

    • tunesmiff says:

      Ah… a favorite real dinner (w/a poached egg in the middle), as I grew up w/Pop out on a trip… No “TAG” of course…

      :-)

      Thanks for both the random memory access and the smile…

      g

  18. lina says:

    Freegan in Paterson

    On Crook Avenue,
    they’re selling red geraniums
    and bruised mangoes.
    The lemons are piled high.
    There’s no shortage of limes.
    I take what’s left behind,
    stale pita in plastic wraps,
    sour early blueberries.
    Stuff my pockets full,
    so that when the rain comes
    and they push us into
    the street,
    telling us not to block
    the sidewalk,
    I have something
    to make it worthwhile.

  19. Azma says:

    BUT FIRST, LET ME TAKE A SELFIE

    We hang out at this new food joint
    which serves a mishmash of seafood.
    They brought us a lobster, so unreal,
    I said “Can’t wait to eat that thing dude!”
    But first, let me take a selfie

    I bruised my knee so bad,
    the pain was out of this world.
    To the clinic I went, to get it dressed,
    the nurse gave the bandages a twirl
    But first, let me take a selfie

    I went to the hairdresser for a cut,
    he gave my hair a weird look.
    I gazed at the mirror with a frown
    and with dismay, my head I shook
    But first, let me take a selfie

  20. RJ Clarken says:

    Excerpt from a Text to Oxford English Dictionary

    March Two Thousand Fourteen: Dear OED,
    You have added, ‘bookaholic.’ Truly?
    I’ve been one for years! That word describes me.
    It’s not just something that’s been coined newly.
    This makes me want to ‘face-palm’ quite coolly.
    #behindthetimes, dear OED.
    (Attached, please see photo of my ‘shelfie.’)

    ###

  21. grcran says:

    Got cancer, learned new words

    The urban dictionary told me to.
    Had badly cancer-ed trucker’s arm to show.
    Manscheduled heavy meetings. Watch me go.
    fmlsomf woe ain’t xi.
    Go get the tumors off my arm. Watch me.

    My dermatologist brought out his screw
    His knife his nurse his cauterizing tool
    A Willie Nelson jambox on his stool
    Just roll me up and smoke me when I die
    Then dish me thirty stitches bloody pie

    Excision went ok, arm good as new
    My next appointment twentysevenfour
    Clear margins cancer gone from lab repour
    And new words never suck, they blow and twerk
    as twelebs calmly cancel cancer smirk

    by gpr crane

  22. break_of_day says:

    Remember me
    with a checkmark in the little box
    so I can reply
    without logging in again

    remember me
    by my username, which nods
    at the middle name
    that mirrors my dad’s and his dad’s

    remember me
    for rough drafts of poetry
    that spill out some parts of myself
    even I did not fully know

    remember me
    in Internet comments ever-fading
    ever destined to
    be leaves at the bottom of the pile

    remember me
    manifested a glimpse at a time
    in the words that are
    their own kind of indulgent selfie

    remember me
    in the reaching out
    and the brushing of hands as we
    pass one another on this invisible street

  23. Tracy Davidson says:

    no selfies for me
    I wouldn’t want to shatter
    my camera lens

  24. Tracy Davidson says:

    how un-hip am I…
    I thought hashtag was a game
    that drug addicts played
    before unfriending themselves
    from the rest of society

  25. LeeAnne Ellyett says:

    Our world in new words

    Climate Change, Climate Canary,
    Snowagedden, Snowpocalypse,
    Polar Vortex, Globel Warming,
    Earth Imploding,

    Financial tsunami, federal shutdown,
    Bail-out, binge-watch,
    Credit crunch, shovel ready,
    Great Recession,

    War on terror, WMD,
    Y2K, 9-11,
    Ground zero,
    threat fatigue, omg,

    Trustafarians, truthiness,
    Sequestration, shellacking,
    Fracking, a narrative,

    @pontifex
    #hashtag
    God particle

  26. Linda Goin says:

    Starts with a Metaphor

    This book is failing fast,
    but I’m not letting it fall.
    The voice in my head grows louder
    the longer I stay in the dark.
    Breezes bear muffled barks
    and a little bite, despite
    a wrap that smells woolly
    and tastes like tangerines.
    The orange sounds like freight trains
    blocking traffic on Main Street,
    the same noise Nancy Bitterhouse
    makes in La Grange when it rains.
    Nancy doesn’t smoke like a train,
    but gamification plays the malice.
    The book says so, before it falls
    through cracks in the deck.

  27. Sara McNulty says:

    #getmeout.com

    He texted her,
    but she did accept
    the message, her head
    was wrapped in iPod
    music. He was escorted
    to the nearest precinct
    where they would not allow
    a selfie for his photo.
    This was no ‘youtube’
    extravaganza, going viral
    within the hour. He had
    to power down several
    devices, forcing him to use
    a landline phone for his one
    call. The arresting officers
    liked him for this crime.

  28. Alfonso Kuchinski says:

    Meta-Separation

    I can be of some generosity
    there’s a little – extra room
    at a comfortable distance
    closing so slowly,
    stilts stand above a salted sealand
    landings at a distance from turbulence
    adequate armor abounds
    disturbances projectiled
    as needed,
    water at body temperature
    gentle waves splash and roll
    in unending days
    surrounded by
    aquatic animals aware,
    eventually
    engaging outside the epidermis

  29. De Jackson says:

    #
    hashtag, you’re it

    i don’t mean to be
    brash,
    but why must we
    hash
    up every single thing
    we want to say?

    please, don’t think me
    rude,
    but your flip atti
    -tude
    and need to be followed
    make me want to stray.

    let’s talk face to
    face,
    and leave symbols their
    place,
    wrangling numbers,
    or as punctuation.

    i’m not harshing your
    buzz,
    or unfriending, be
    -cuz:
    i’m #justsayin’
    i’m #notplayin’

    #

  30. Michelle Hed says:

    Remembering Childhood Friends

    A gloomy Gus
    got on the bus,
    glaring along the way.

    Some dude
    he was kind of rude,
    prying into Gus’s day.

    He started talking about a cat or a dog
    or maybe it was a hog,
    something about catfish, what the hey!

    Then he wanted to take a selfie,
    man did Gus get grumpy –
    made me wonder about that donkey, all blue-gray.

  31. LeeAnne Ellyett says:

    My son turns 24 tomorrow, this poem is for him.

    BUZZ WORDS 1990

    Applet,
    he has an app for that,
    Boot Up,
    does anyone still have dial-up,
    sorry for your luck,
    Cowabunga,
    a word known to generations of fans,
    Howdy Doody, TMNT, the Bart-man,

    Emoticon,
    still doing the Lord’s work of inflecting text with affect :)
    Geek,
    Nailed it !
    Icon,
    readers of this poem will not find a religious work of art,
    alas, wish I knew how to add the computer symbol,

    Karaoke,
    spectacurlarly successful entertainment technology experience,
    Publify,
    I can’t wait to publish this poem on-line,
    Y2K,
    Whew, not so important anymore,
    but it was then,
    the world about to end.

  32. In memory of Maya, allow me to re-post this poem I wrote a few years back and posted on Poetic Asides. She was one GREAT LADY!

    Inspired by Inaugural Poem: “On the Pulse of Morning”
    (A Rock, A River, A Tree)
    by Maya Angelou

    On the Eve of Your Annihilation
    (A Rock, A Paper, A Scissor)
    A Rock, A Paper, A Scissor
    Remembers back when cavemen,
    Threw sticks and stones toward their foes.

    The need, to retaliate
    For the injuries
    Both real and imagined,
    Any nasty words with their sarcastic wit
    Is forgotten in the moment of the challenge.

    But now, the Rock cries out to us, obviously, vehemently,
    Hey, You. You may compete with me
    Dare to face your future embarrassment,
    But don’t come crying to me.

    I won’t save you like ‘yo mama.’

    You, twisted only a bit more inferior than
    Your sister, half bent over backwards
    Your big behind,
    Sticking up with your
    Face down in white-trash.

    Your mouth egging me on
    Picking a fight.

    The Rock cries out today, you may cover me,
    But do not cut yourself.

    Beyond the wail of humanity,
    A Paper chats tormenting insults,
    Dragging a line in the sand.

    Each of us a stronghold might,
    Weak and bizarrely made arrogant,
    So haughty under pressure.

    Your arms struggling while wrestling
    Have left no way to prevent escape
    My grip, firmly upon your shirt.

    Yet, today I confront you to admit your weaknesses,
    If you will contemplate defeat no more. I dare you,

    Ready for battle we will proclaim our superiority
    The Referee gave to us when the Rock and the Paper
    And the Scissor were right.

    Before sarcasm was a wounded blister on your
    Soul and when you thought you could win
    You lost.

    The Paper taunts and taunts on.

    There is a real desire to react to
    The opened Scissor and the clenched Rock.

    So say the Weak, the Feeble, the Scrawny,
    The Pathetic and Wretched Refuse of this Scheming Whore,
    The Useless, the Inadequate, the Hopeless, the Desperate
    The Frantic, the Distressed, the Hysterical, the Anxious,
    The Nervous, the Worried, the Concerned,
    The Emaciated, the Tired, the Wasted.
    They fear. They all fear
    The slap of the hand jive.

    Don’t you dare run with those Scissors
    In your fist. You could poke someone’s eye out.

    Settle down already, here beside the Rock.

    Each of us, conceited in our righteousness
    Our victory, has been wagered.

    You, who called me that nasty name, you
    Hypocrite , Charlatan and Impostor, you
    Namby-pamby, who bullied on the playground, then
    Ran tattling to teacher, left me to the thrashing of
    Other tormentors–desperate for popularity,
    Ravenous for blood.

    You, the Creep, the Sneak, the Slippery Fish …
    You the Villain, the Scoundrel, the Desperado, bet
    Gambled, lost on the throw of the die
    Wishing for a victory.

    Here, stand directly in front of me.

    I know the rules,
    Which will not be changed.

    I, the Rock, I the Paper, I the Scissor
    I am yours–your exchange of words has been heard.

    Lift up your hands, you have a stabbing need
    For this intense struggle emerging between us.

    Previous battles, despite their outcome,
    Cannot be un-played, and if challenged
    With guts, need not be lost again.

    Stand up to your oppressor
    Let no one conquer you.

    Dream again
    Of glory.

    Women, children, men,
    Take structure into the palms of your hands.

    Mold it into the shape of a Rock, A Paper,
    A Scissor. Form it into
    The contour of your chosen icon.
    Lift up your hands
    One, Two, Three new chances
    For your latest win.

    Do not be committed eternally
    To losing, restricted forever
    To wrestle-mania ways.

    This possibility goes further,
    Offering you a chance to finally come even.
    Here, on the pounding of this new disagreement
    You may have the nerve
    To look up and out upon me, the
    Rock, the Paper, the Scissor, your tournament.

    No less to the coach than the player.

    No less to you now than your daddy then.

    Here on the beating of this new confrontation
    You may have the strength to look up and out
    And into your opponent’s eyes, into
    Your competitor’s face, your challenge
    And say for sure
    Really sure
    With conviction
    I win.

  33. break_of_day says:

    #Slashtag

    it’s a two-out-of-five-star film
    featuring an actor you used to like
    from a now-canceled television show
    that remains the high point of his career

    it’s about something something then the
    blood-spattering slashing begins
    in a remote somewhere somewhere
    while college students are on vacation

    and maybe it’s a flick about the isolation
    of the bathroom-mirror selfie generation
    whose friendships are replaced by social
    networks of flat faces on iPhone screens

    or maybe the other cynics are right
    and it’s just about making money
    because people will always pay to watch
    teenagers be unfriended one body at a time

    the most modern crowdfunding story, though,
    might be our persistent insistence
    on paying for the gutting of others
    with our own self-congratulatory cynicism

    • break_of_day says:

      I’d like to change that last word to “criticism.” Cynicism was on the brain because I realized that the poem that was forming was coming from a cynical place, and I didn’t want to just leave it there as if my own personal cynical response to some of the fleeting trends of society isn’t part of the problem in our modern culture. I do loathe the word “selfie” though. And “preggers.”

  34. TomNeal says:

    The Sapiopath*

    Near the corner of George and Magdalen Street
    I saw George and Dhani, father and son,
    In Oxford to shop, or perhaps for fun,
    I don’t know, but I do know when our eyes met
    I saw fear: George and Dhani made a retreat
    To avoid my nod in their direction:
    And, I was embarrassed to be mistaken
    For Mark David Chapman.

    *One who learns from sorrow and hardship.

  35. veronica_gurlie says:

    my word is: catfish:

    Fishing In Pittsburgh PA

    I pointed at the river and said,
    You can fish in this river in Pittsburgh,
    if you want to, but all of the rivers here are pretty dirty.
    Anyone born there, knows this,
    everyone at some point, has reeled in a condom, or a pair of panties,
    ones that wasn’t exactly, their taste or size,
    and they just stared in them, not knowing what to do with them.
    But go ahead if you want to,
    cast into this funky Pittsburgh river,
    this large toilet bowl,
    this water hole of crap,
    this well of dirty little secrets,
    go ahead and get knee high, or balls deep into it,
    fish til you at least catch a cat fish (cause they always bite in foul places)
    and then take it home, and eat it up,
    But I promise you, you’re going to puke up your life,
    just like when you saw daddy’s thingy, through the key hole,
    just like when you saw me puke, when I woke up, and realized ,
    I did it with a fat piece of bass, that is just like daddy,
    and guess what, it was behind a bar, along this same river.

  36. I START THE DAY WITH LIES

    You will be fed, I tell the cat who weaves
    soft black circles around my ankles
    in the dark kitchen. I flick on the overhead
    which flutters twice, a dying moth.
    I’ll change the bulb. But I suspect it’s this
    old home’s decrepit wiring. The globe
    spins toward sunrise and my dog
    scratches at the door to go out. We’ll have
    fun today, I tell her – unless the phone
    rings, the inbox blinks, or I hear a
    crash connecting two-lane county road
    with stockwire fence – that kid who flipped
    his rig from ditch to culvert upside down
    wheels still spinning, we watched
    all morning while the guys in yellow
    turnouts cut him out, life-flighted him
    away. That day, I never worked
    my dog. The cat was fed, but very late.
    Big-data of the universe got in the way,
    too much for me to gloss with lies.

  37. Gamification

    What we want is face time.

    How long can we keep you
    On our site, make you stick
    Around? Let’s take a task,
    Simple and mundane. Make
    It a game, award points
    That mean nothing, sucker,

    Just that we got your eyes
    For longer, and keep you
    There longer than need be,
    But hey, it’s about us
    After all, not you. We
    Count your clicks, the seconds

    You waste on us, and claim,
    Therefore, we are most loved,
    Most relevant. We show
    Analysts our numbers,
    Gloat to our shareholders.
    Yes, we game the system.

    Forget the IPO.
    We’ll sell before the game
    Is up. Let’s gamify.
    It’s just the old story
    Newly minted. You know,
    The emperor’s new clothes?

  38. writinglife16 says:

    Unfriend me!

    An acquaintance wanted
    to take a selfie
    with me in it
    and post it on her wall.
    I said no and walked away.
    I don’t do pictures.
    She yelled that she was
    going to unfriend me.
    I wondered how that was possible.
    We were never friends.

  39. foodpoet says:

    Catfish

    Catfish fingers now has a whole new brain freeze
    Not a menu item at red hot and blue
    Not a twisted poem from Ben about mad poet dreams

    No in computerese a catfish is false
    You know
    You, you with your lines drawing in the gullible
    Fishing for fresh dates.
    I know how to spot your net and I will
    unfriend you walk away from bytes bites and
    You.

  40. michigoose says:

    Th’ e-waste land

    I will show you fear in a handful of dust
    and no pledge
    to save us

  41. lionetravail says:

    The new words in Oxford are hoots-
    is there anything ‘ese’ contributes?
    I’m not sure it’s healthy
    to play with your selfie,
    and using the rest? All crap shoots!

  42. laurie kolp says:

    #postyourselfiesomewhereelse

    post your selfie somewhere else
    this gamification ain’t for me
    I be like I’m gonna unfriend you
    my wall is for my own selfies

  43. Nancy Posey says:

    Portmanteau Words

    A portmanteau is “a case used in journeying for containing clothing,” and comes from the French porter, “to carry,” plus manteau, “cloak.” Carroll coined portmanteau word in 1882 based on the idea of “two meanings packed up into one word,” says the Online Etymology Dictionary.

    “Jabberworky” had a way
    of saying what I want to say:
    Right now I having a frabjous day,
    galumphing and chortling as I play.

    Though Carroll left us on our own,
    we’re making new words on the phone:
    Thought busy signal maybe gone,
    we now have tweeting and ringtone.

    For every new word there’s catch:
    Do I wear a fauxhawk or soul patch?
    I snap my own face, it’s a selfie;
    a picture of my books, a shelfie.

    And while I may be crazy busy
    that timesuck Facebook leaves me dizzy.
    My family calls me mouse potato,
    but I can quit when they just say to.

    We weird the language, noun our verbs,
    but there’s one thing that most perturbs:
    The OED fills all those shelves
    with words we didn’t make up ourselves.

  44. lionetravail says:

    “Puttin’ On The Shvitz”

    I hate putting on summer’s Ritz,
    due to sweltering clime in my ‘pits.
    Re: suits, I am scathing,
    else birthday and bathing,
    because of inevit’ble shvitz!

  45. annell says:

    Son
    Sometimes things are deeper than talk
    Talk is often only surface noise
    Some things need to be looked at
    In the quiet of morning
    Before anyone is awake
    Alone in the dark
    Memories packed away
    For years
    Are taken out

    You were a baby once
    The one the only
    Then a small child
    A joy for any who looked
    Into your clear blue eyes
    Busy, busy never cease
    The world was your oyster
    Everyday was a new adventure
    The nest we built was safe and warm
    We would have built a wall around you
    To keep you safe

    But you ventured out
    Went to school
    Learned all that you could
    I remember the gift you brought
    To me
    The two blue eggs
    I was torn
    You wanted to give me
    Something you knew I would love
    And yet the two blue herons would
    Never know this world
    I kept them in a drawer
    And grieved each time I looked at them
    You were too young to understand

    Your heart grew in mine
    And one day you went away
    My heart broke in two
    Times two
    Times two
    To infinity
    I looked for you
    In time you returned
    I was proud of your effort
    To stand alone
    And now you need me
    I love you still

    Note: I’m sorry I couldn’t follow your prompt….I have been walking in the depths of an emotional canyon and the new words do not seem to be the words to speak of things that are deep.

  46. candy says:

    Date Night

    Where do you want to eat?
    There’s an app for that.
    Do you have the directions?
    There’s an app for that.
    What’s on the menu?
    There’s an app for that.
    How much tip should I leave?
    There’s and app for that.
    How about a show?
    There’s an app for that.
    How many calories in popcorn?
    There’s an app for that.
    Let’s get coffee.
    There’s an app for that.
    How do we get home from here?
    There’s an app for that.
    Would you like to come in, “wink”
    No app needed!

  47. priyajane says:

    Searching For A Soulmate

    Searching for a soulmate—–
    I decided to post my catfish profile
    with peachy natural selfies
    photoshopped from Instagram,
    including some, at my fusion restaurant
    serving delicious spicy pho,
    served with green turducken
    in a special sauce
    and a side of animated crispy poutine-
    the one that Groupon tweeps about.

    For special effects
    (a modest way of exhibiting my assorted interests)
    I added hash tags of Pinterest stars
    that float on iclouds.
    25 freegans responded, but
    sadly, I had to unfriend that crazy lot-
    positive vibes were just not coming through!

    Tomorrow is my rendezvous
    with a promising yooper
    who has a gig at the steampunk exhibit
    at the newly renovated museum.

    This may be a win-win situation after all–
    Wish me luck!!!

  48. Hannah says:

    This isn’t a Fan-tango-fab-fun Poem

    Where I come from there weren’t any fancy tricks,
    there wasn’t any elaborate fan-tangoed words to get us kids to do shit.
    The place that I was raised reared their children to pitch in
    and the kids that grew there knew to help in any way they could;
    they understood that their next meal and a roof over their heads was a privilege not a gift.
    So, there wasn’t any silly gamification when it came time to stack the year’s firewood,
    or rake the yard, do the dishes, vacuum, sweep and dust –
    it was a must not a gust of false air up our tails to fool us into work
    and we’re the better for it
    we know how to get our hands dirty and sweat a little (or a lot);
    we’ve got what it takes to bring a plan to fruition.
    Where I come from we stood behind the ultimate mission
    there weren’t any fancy tricks,
    no elaborate fan-tangoed words to get us kids to do shit.

    Copyright © Hannah Gosselin 2014

    I chose gamification (noun): the process of adding games or game like elements to something (as a task) so as to encourage participation

  49. BabyMoon

    it is almost silent
    taken nothing for granted
    to see that hidden sunset
    to mark the stretch marks with vogue tattoos
    to drink in the night with canada dry
    seeing black and white rosed character nights
    still talking with the eyes as the stomach no longer hides our oneness
    baby is a coming
    and these nights will no longer go on without a peep
    for that we strike the clock with one last Tango around a rainbow of delight

  50. Unchoice.

    No decision to make
    it happens
    and it is
    and will be
    and was
    and if you think about it
    it can drive you mad
    so you don’t,
    you think about something else,
    anything else
    and as long as you are
    concentrating over there
    and not here
    the possibility of insane
    is held off
    and maybe that is why
    there has never been a word before
    that means
    unchoice.

    Michele Brenton.

    ‘Unchoice’ is a word I coined recently for my husband who is using it as a concept in his art photography dissertation exploring the relationship and effect of pain on horses and humans. I came up with the word when we discovered to our surprise that there does not seem to be a word that covers this state of being – at least not in English.

    • Hannah says:

      This concept is intriguing, Michele and taps into thoughts I’ve been trying to get a hold of lately.

      • We searched and searched for a word that meant unchoice. There are phrases and there are words that skirt around the issue or refer to the actions of putting someone into that position but we cannot find a word that encompasses being stuck with something and having to live with it whether you like it or not.

        • break_of_day says:

          It’s a really interesting subject to spotlight in a poem. I’ve encountered something like this in my own life (as I suppose most/all of us have) and the indescribable nature of it is part of its power and strangeness.

    • shellaysm says:

      Hmmmm….thought-provoking! Love the notion.

    • seingraham says:

      This fascinates me Michele. I don’t know exactly what it is you’re trying to describe with the notion of “unchoice” especially as you describe it “as a concept in art photography exploring the relationship and effect of pain on horses and humans”. I’d love to discuss this further. Would you be willing to do that on my blog (or yours) or in email format? You can private message me on FB either way…and I understand if this is not something you’re keen to do, or if you’re too busy…it’s just something that tweaked my interest and I thought I’d try following up on it.

  51. My Bestie

    My bestie beats all other friends hands down
    A bookaholic genius, unsurpassed
    A wackadoodle, quirky gal, a clown

    A DIYer, skills and gifts are vast
    Her words are not monotic or too fast
    To her do-overs are a form of play
    Yes, she deserves a herogram each day

  52. candy says:

    Sometimes in the
    Evening when the
    Last of the day glows
    Far on the horizon
    I dream of places
    Exotic and common

  53. SELFIE

    A selfish sense of one’s self,
    conceit replete with an image of one.
    Where’s the fun in solo photos
    when who knows how low one can go?
    I take a picture of myself,
    I take a photo by myself.
    As long as my arm can take it,
    I’ll take it as long as my arm.
    And if it were a snapshot of two,
    our selfish selfie would be a selfus.
    So go self yourself! And selfyou too!

  54. shellaysm says:

    TechnoTalk

    I so should hashtag this;
    my circle will want to follow it
    or comment/chat on Facebook.
    I better pin the idea to my board, too
    since it’s obviously Pinteresting enough.
    OMG, so stoked that I unfriended him
    last week. Now he won’t PM me,
    trash me online anymore,
    or spam my inbox constantly
    over my latest Instagram selfies.
    If he sees the Groufie
    where I cut and pasted him out
    with all his wannabe Swag..LOL!
    BTW, I watched the webinar
    and Youtube clip you sent
    but WTH was that really about?
    IDK, I’ll just Google it
    (think I favorited it).
    If not, I can scan my cookies
    DVR the full episode,
    or download the app.
    I’m sure Amazon carries it, too.
    Wait, maybe I’ll ask Siri first.
    GTG…We can Skype later
    Or I’ll just Facetime you
    from my homepage
    to plan that flash mob event.
    I need to Mapquest or
    check my GPS for directions.
    Text ur ETA to my tablet, K?
    CU l8r!

    • dhaivid3 says:

      This is serious! Ha ha. Well written!

      Do you think in future people would be taught (yeah, actually taught alongside their abc’s and 123’s) all the neccessary abbreviations available just so that they are able to communicate with everyone? Cos, let’s face it, there are those who will never use slang or abbreviate and there are those who will drift ever further into the use of slangs and abbreviations. Soon, we might need translators to translate from plain English (or any other language) to slang/abbreviated form and from slang/abbreviated form back to English just so two people who are standing face to face can communicate even if they both “speak” the same language!

      • shellaysm says:

        I have a young teen at home which makes me think the same. I grasp some of the lingo from her (after she explains it or I catch it in context–sort of!) If we use something incorrectly, the eyes roll or we’re told, “um, yeah, don’t do that again!” I cringe at the lack of grammar, spelling & punctuation skills (or even care over knowing how to use them correctly). Scary to think where this leads, & how this generation will teach their kids English (or if it will be as you’ve feared, a whole new language)!

    • wow your poem really taught me alot, I am so out of the groove, great job

  55. dhaivid3 says:

    Poem title: Let’s take an elfie baby!

    Let’s hold it up to the light
    Let’s look at him as he shines so bright
    Let’s watch him play with such a ‘strange’ the device
    As he giggles and laughs with so much delight

    Our baby’s growing up so very fast
    In his own hands our very phone he grasps
    He smiles at us and – Wow! – we see the flash!
    Our baby has taken a selfie – or is that an elfie – at last!

  56. # HASHTAG

    This was the vogue back in the day
    when we came in for dinner, a break from play.
    Our rambunctious spirit kept us uptight,
    but it wasn’t “Hash Tag”, we called it “FOOD FIGHT”!

  57. TomNeal says:

    Seduction
    She was sapiosexual
    and like a good mouser
    Knew when to pounce sir
    On unwary sapienoids.

  58. Lindy™ says:

    Turducken

    Bird inside a bird
    inside a bird, a new word
    baking heart attacks.

  59. ON BEING UNFRIENDLESS

    Every day it’s the same way
    requests for friends abound.
    I have found that the more I accept,
    the more I accept and the chance
    of partaking in this “unfriend” dance
    is minimal I have all the “friends”
    I’ll never meet and yet I am
    complete. Friends until the end
    of this poem. If I saw them, I’d know ‘em.
    I’ll remain unfriendless as long
    as I am accepting of that fact!

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